


Conqueror's Consolation

by Kolfinna Briar-Rose (KolfinnaBriarRose)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KolfinnaBriarRose/pseuds/Kolfinna%20Briar-Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the movie "The Tree of Might", we learned that Turles was a bit of an epicure: he enjoyed the finest wine and finest foods from a myriad conquered worlds. He also enjoyed the finest women...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conqueror's Consolation

Bulma blinked--one minute, she was speeding home from Son Goku's in her car, the next minute--WHANNGGGG! Something hit her car and set it bouncing off the road. It tumbled crazily and finally came to rest upside down, with Bulma dangling from the seatbelt, scared witless, but unharmed.

"I don't believe this! I'm not that bad a driver!" She braced herself, and unbuckled the seatbelt. 

Thup! In spite of her preparation, she still wound up sprawling gracelessly on her back on the car's canted ceiling. "At least I can get out now. I wonder what hit me... I hope it wasn't whoever shot down Yamucha's car." The power windows still worked, and Bulma rolled one down and crawled out of it.

She was at the bottom of a ravine--a wet, muddy ravine. "Oh, great! Not only do Yamucha and Goku have to fight some menace that wants to destroy the world, my car has to get wrecked!" Bulma began to climb out of the ravine.

"Ah, there you are!" exclaimed a familiar, high, almost girlish voice. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air.

"Goku! Thank goodness--" Bulma looked into the face of the man who rescued her, and two things stood out. One, Goku was never this deeply tanned, and two, Goku did not wear Saiyan armor and a scouter. She glanced down. Three, Son Goku did not have a tail!

Bulma did the first reasonable thing that came to mind; she screamed. "Eeeeeeeee! YOU'RE NOT GOKU! You're a SAIYAN!"

"If by 'Goku' you mean that traitor Kakarrot, of course not!" he sneered. "I am Turles and you are my prisoner." Turles' voice was eerily similar to Goku's, and he looked like Son's darker twin.

"Wh--what are you going to do to me?" Bulma asked nervously as Turles hurtled low over the treetops carrying her.

"All kinds of things," he chuckled evilly as a large disk-shaped space craft came into view. Turles descended, and a door slid opened in the side of the craft.

Bulma gulped. "What do you mean, 'all kinds of things'?"

"I conquer worlds," Turles said, slinging her over his shoulder and carrying her inside. "From every ravaged world, I collect what pleases me--the finest food, the finest wines... and the finest women."

He strode through the corridors of the huge ship, passing through a large chamber with a great round observation window. "Consider yourself fortunate; even now my men are planting the seed of this world's destruction, but you--you will be spared." 

One final door slid open, revealing someone's private quarters. Bulma had a glimpse of a huge bed, more furniture than she ever expected to see on a spaceship, shag carpeting deep enough to mow--

Turles dropped her ignominously in a large alcove, beside a luxurious hot tub and looked her over critically. Bulma was suddenly aware of the mud covering most of her clothes--

"You don't need a tank, but you're filthy. Clean yourself up before I return." With that, he turned on his heel and left, the door hissing shut behind him.

Bulma ran to the door, hitting the open button as she'd seen Turles do. Nothing; she was locked in.

"Oooooohhh! You bastard! Goku will take care of you, you'll see!" She pounded angrily on the door to no avail.

After calming down, Bulma went back to the dressing room/bathroom alcove and looked at herself in the mirror. "Well! For all his bad manners, that Saiyan was right--I am filthy! And sweaty, and bruised... A hot bath would feel good right now."

After a few minutes of experimenting, Bulma figured out how to make the tub deliver not just hot water, but hot water with bubble-bath suds! "Hey, this is great," she said to herself as she slid into the wonderfully hot water. "I've got to get Dad to design one like this!" After lathering and washing, Bulma settled back for a long, hot soak.

# # #

The sound of the door sliding open and shut again jerked Bulma from her reverie in the hot, soapy water. She sat up abruptly, wisps of soap bubbles half-concealing, half-revealing her nakedness. Her hands abruptly covered her breasts as water dripped off her shoulders. Turles had returned.

"CAN'T YOU AT LEAST KNOCK OR SOMETHING?" Bulma shrieked, embarassment momentarily overcoming her fear of the fierce Saiyan. 

Turles smirked at that, his face brightening as he glanced at the naked blue-haired woman in his bath. His smirk broadened into a grin as he slowly pulled the scouter off his ear and tossed it on a nearby cabinet; his now-tattered white cloak followed. 

"Out of the water, wench." Turles pulled off the heavy armor shell and tossed it to one side; then bent down and began tugging his boots off.

"Are you nuts??" Bulma said, still holding herself and looking around desperately for her clothes. She could have sworn she'd dropped them right next to the tub. There was something different about Turles--he didn't seem so cocky as before, and the expression on his face when he first entered... he'd looked tired and defeated, if that were possible for a Saiyan warrior.

He glanced up at her. "I need a bath, so unless you want to share the tub..." Turles answered with only mild exasperation as he pulled the rest of his accouterments off; only his briefs remained.

"Oh." Bulma gulped, looking at the powerfully muscled, nearly naked warrior. She climbed out of the tub at the far end, away from Turles, carefully keeping her eyes on him, one arm covering her breasts, while the other hand tried to protect her modesty lower down. 

Not that she really minded keeping her eyes on him; Turles bore a very disturbing, and yet very intriguing resemblance to Son Goku; for the first time, Bulma wondered if she'd made a mistake in choosing Yamucha. There was that about Son Goku--his wonderful sweet nature, his handsome face, his muscular body, that attracted her; Bulma couldn't deny that. Turles, Goku's doppleganger, certainly had the handsome face and the hard, muscular body--but the nature was so utterly different. She shivered.

Turles noticed. "Cold?" He stalked over to the tub and plucked a large white fluffy towel from an adjacent cabinet and tossed it at Bulma. She grabbed it, but at the momentary cost of her modesty. "Dry yourself before you catch something, wench." He pulled out another, much larger towel and spread it out on the rug.

"My name is not 'wench'", Bulma growled through gritted teeth as she spread the towel over herself, "It's Bulma." She began to dry herself tentatively, trying to keep as much of the towel between Turles' gaze and her body as possible.

Turles smirked again, and casually peeled off his briefs, tossing them to the side with his armor. Bulma stopped drying herself to stare at the impressive evidence of his manhood, licking her lips ever so slightly. Turles grinned; Bulma blushed as she realized what she was doing and that he was watching her. She averted her eyes hurriedly and started drying herself quickly.

"Oh, no, don't hurry... Bulma. Take your time; do a good, thorough job," Turles said with amusement as he lowered himself into the hot sudsy water. "And don't hide yourself; I wish to enjoy the view."

Bulma glared at him. "OOOOOOOOOH! If you think I'll--!"

Turles raised one hand, interrupting her. "You will do what I tell you to do, wench! As I told you before, from every world I conquer, I enjoy the finest wines, the finest foods... and the finest women. I will enjoy you, Bulma." He grinned, sinking lower into the hot water.

"Oh, really?" she said, archly. Being called one of the finest women of Earth flattered her, but the implications did not. "Where are the rest of these women, Turles?"

"Oh, I meant to have a harem of you Earth women, all the most delectable, spirited beauties I could find, but... circumstances intervened." A shadow momentarily passed over his face.

"What circumstances? And what happened to your previous women?" Bulma asked, a certain amount of dread in her voice. What was to be her fate?

He frowned, and the lurking ferocity in his gaze reminded Bulma that she did _not_ want to anger this man. "The circumstances do not concern you right now; as for my women," Turles shrugged. "Some stayed on their home worlds--the ones that were merely subjugated, some live elsewhere, and others... were disobedient and rebellious." The coldness in his voice sent a shiver down Bulma's spine.

Turles smiled slowly. "You are dry enough, I think. Drop the towel and come here."

Bulma set the towel down and stood beside the tub, naked and scared. 

Turles handed her a sponge. "Wash my back, wen--Bulma."

Okay, I can do this, she reassured herself, though her arms and legs seemed frozen with terror. At least some of his women lived, unless he's lying just to calm me down--but why would he do that? As strong and cruel as he is, he could just overpower me and do what he wants with my body. This doesn't make much sense.

As Bulma scrubbed and massaged the powerful Saiyan's back, she felt the corded muscles under her fingers, and again marveled at the strength in the warrior's body. Damn it, girl, he's come here to kill Goku and everyone, he's taken you prisoner and means to rape you, and you're drooling over his muscles! Bulma scolded herself mentally. On the other hand, he is handsome, and if he wasn't such a cruel bastard, he'd be very, very desirable...

Turles straightened, allowing Bulma to reach further down his back, and sighed with pleasure as she continued to scrub him.

On the other hand, Bulma thought, he hasn't been really cruel to _me_ \--yet--and he _is_ attractive.

"That's good," Turles purred. "You make a good little servant wench when you try, Bulma-girl." He stood up, water cascading off of him. "Get another towel; I need to dry."

Bulma gulped again as she stared at his aroused manhood from a distance of two feet, and scurried over to the cabinet where the towels were stored. She started to hand it to him--

"No, wench. I am the commander of this ship, and you are my servant--I don't dry myself. That's what you're here for." Turles grinned as he stepped out of the hot tub. "Dry me--thoroughly. Every inch."

Bulma turned red and clutched the towel to her chest. "Where should I start?" she squeaked.

Turles grinned maliciously. "Oh, any place--but don't worry about my hair." Power briefly flared around him, and his hair was dry. "Just stroke all the damp skin dry, hmmm?"

Bulma's blush spread across the entire front of her body; her nipples stood out. She started with his back; at least he couldn't watch her there.

Her breath came in short, frightened gasps as she worked her way across his broad shoulders and rubbed down both powerful arms. Again, her fingers ran over the hard, corded muscles with only a soft cloth between her flesh and his. Bulma calmed a bit as she worked her way down his scarred back; Turles was far from displeased. As she worked her way down to his athletically narrow waist and the furry tail coiled loosely around it, he interrupted her.

"Leave my tail 'til last," he purred. "And don't get any ideas; you can't hold on to it forever, and you'd not survive letting go."

"Y-Yes," stammered Bulma. What kind of idiot am I? I should have thought of grabbing his tail earlier! He'd have been just as helpless as Goku or Raditz were when their tails were grabbed! She started rubbing carefully above the base of his tail; she heard a sharp intake of breath from Turles.

Her own breathing was a bit irregular, and her nipples tingled. What is this?? I'm this bastard's slave and about to be his sex toy, and he's turning _me_ on! Damn, but he has a nice, tight butt.

She rubbed around the tail and began to towel across his hard, tight ass. Turles sighed; Bulma could feel the muscles under his side and thighs twitch and tighten as she toweled the backs of his legs. They were strong, powerful legs like young oaks; she rubbed them all the way down to his feet.

Turles put a hand on her bowed head, and pulled her around to face him. "That was sloppy of you," he said with cruel amusement. "You missed the inner backs of my thighs, wench. Do them again."

"Yes." Bulma answered feebly. She had tried to skip that part!

"Commander, wench." Turles answered. "Say 'Yes, Commander'; you will address me by my title, wench."

"Yes, Commander," Bulma said meekly, her eyes on his dripping wet erection. Sooner or later, she was going to have to dry _that_ , if Turles didn't have other plans for it and her first. She blushed again as a strangely pleasant tingle ran through her nipples and between her legs.

Quickly she returned to drying Turles's backside; her hands ran up the backs of his thighs, slipping at last between them, toweling very carefully the tender, puckered opening between his legs. Turles hissed quietly through his teeth then, and a ripple of goosebumps passing across his skin.

"Dry the rest of me, wench!" He said harshly. "Slowly!"

"Yes, Commander." Bulma faced the powerful Saiyan, running the towel over his broad, scarred chest; she circled each nipple carefully. Turles purred, and his nipples hardened. Bulma worked her way down his flat, slab-muscled belly, feeling his muscles ripple and twitch under her fingers. She couldn't keep her eyes from the rapidly reddening member so close to her breasts, and that pleasant tingle between her legs intensified. Bulma's nipples stood out, almost painfully hard.

She switched abruptly to his legs, drying the fronts of those tree-trunk thighs and calves, patting dry the tops of his feet. Bulma looked up; Turles grinned back at her as she eyed his groin.

"Oh yes, wench. Dry that, too." 

Bulma blushed again; but she still tingled inside. She waited a moment to let her breathing get back to normal. What kind of sicko am I? He's a vicious killer who means to rape me and do unspeakable things to me for his amusement--and I'm getting hot for _him_? 

On the other hand... he hasn't actually done anything to me yet. In fact, he's kept his hands off me so far, and he does look so much like Goku, and he's... desirable, and WHAT AM I THINKING??

"Well?" Turles asked with amused impatience. "Get on with it!"

"Shouldn't that be 'get it on'?" Bulma muttered under her breath, forgetting how keen Saiyan ears were. She started to towel his upper thighs, very hesitantly.

"That comes later, Bulma-girl," Turles smirked, after a long enough silence that Bulma thought he hadn't heard. 

The whole front of her body turned red and Bulma gulped. Very, very gently she rubbed the cloth behind and around his testicles, first one, then the other. Turles' soft groans as she did so were immensely distracting, as was the insistant tingling of her painfully hard nipples.

At last she wrapped the towel around his rock-hard shaft and gently rubbed it down. Turles' breath came in long pleasurable sighs. "Oh, yes, my wench, you are very good."

He grabbed her shoulders in his powerful hands; Bulma instantly tensed. He's going to take me now! Half of her panicked at the prospect, half of her quivered in anticipation. Her traitorous body tingled all over; her skin alternated heat and goosebumps.

"But not perfect," Turles growled softly. "Beautiful and well-shaped, a feast for the eye--but every feast needs a bit of sauce and a touch of spice." He lifted her easily and carried her over to the beach towel, laying her face down.

Bulma barely had time to wonder what he meant by that, and why he wasn't using the bed, before something cold and oily dripped onto her back. She yelped.

Turles laughed. "Yes, a bit of spice. And sauce--such a delicious feast should glisten and shine." His fingers pressed gently into the puddle of oil on her back, and he began to rub the oil slowly across her body.

His firm fingers massaged her back, loosening tense muscles, running smoothly and sensually over her oil-covered skin. Turles gently kneaded and oiled her arms, careful not to injure the fragile Earth woman. 

Bulma relaxed as the warm hands stroked her back and neck; she shivered as his fingers stroked up and down her spine. The tingling between her legs grew more intense. He's seducing me, she thought. I should hate that... but this feels so _good_! She relaxed more, letting his hands roam over her firm round bottom, and down the backs of her thighs and calves. She wiggled as his fingers tickled the bottoms of her feet and rubbed between her toes; goosebumps and heat ran in waves across her skin again.

A single, oil-covered finger slipped between the cheeks of her ass and rubbed gently at the opening there; Bulma felt her anus clench and a wave of pleasure throbbed through her aching womanhood. Turles chuckled.

"You want me to enjoy this!" she accused him.

"Of course, Bulma-girl." Turles turned her gently over, and straddled her, pouring more oil between her breasts. He rested his weight carefully on his knees, barely pinning Bulma's thighs between his own. He leaned forward and began to oil her throat and breasts; she gasped as his hardness pressed against her stomach.

He stroked her nipples, rubbing each one between an oil-covered thumb and forefinger; they grew painfully hard again, and Bulma sighed with pleasure. Slowly his strong, warm hands worked their way down her belly, rubbing her flat stomach and stroking her sides. The tingling in her groin turned into a fierce craving; she _wanted_ this fierce warrior, wanted him inside her now!

As his hands reached the top of the blue hair tufting her mound, she gasped, "I thought you meant to just.. take me. I'm helpless against you."

"Of course you are." Turles worked his way down the sides of her thighs, carefully skirting the blue hair, though his fingers reached up to touch her inner thighs once or twice, teasing and tantalizing. "I told you, I _enjoy_ the finest women. Sex is so much better with enthusiastic participation, Bulma-girl. Rape is subjugation, and there's no sport, no savor in conquering someone as weak as you. I conquer the strong; I seduce the weak."

"You bastard!" Bulma hissed, but not very convincingly; Turles' nimble fingers stroked back up the inside of her thighs, and Bulma sighed loudly.

"Yes, aren't I?" he agreed, smirking fiercely. His damp tail unwound and lashed from side to side, flicking water in all directions. "It's time you dried my tail, wench. And take care--I'd hate to accidently break you at this point." Turles moved back, freeing Bulma to move, and handed her another towel.

Bulma sat up abruptly, half-indignant at being abandoned in the midst of her growing pleasure. She snatched the towel from him, and stared at the lashing tail; Turles obligingly flicked it around in front of him where she could reach it.

Bulma licked her lips; she _could_ grab the sensitive limb and make Turles scream. The thought of the fierce Saiyan warrior screaming and begging at her feet sent a fierce heat through her body; her hungry womanhood throbbed at the thought. But the consequences... No. She intended to live through this; more, she intended to enjoy it! There was another way to make Turles beg...

Ever so delicately she took the furry brown tail in her hands and rubbed it very gently up and down with the soft towel. Turles' breathing again came in hard gasps; he moaned as she rubbed the tip of his tail between her two hands. His erection stiffened even more, and clear fluid oozed from the tip.

"That's... enough," he panted, eyes unfocussed. 

"I don't think so," Bulma answered cruelly. She dropped the towel, and rubbed the now-dry tail with her bare hands, stroking and kneading the limber organ. She stood up, still holding the tender tail, and moved behind him, working her hands up the length of the tail to the base of his spine as she did so.

Turles moaned and fell forward on his hands and knees, his whole body shuddering. "Woman..." he gasped.

"Yes... Commander?" Bulma asked sweetly, as she knelt behind him and gently massaged the base of his tail, working back outward to the tip again.

Turles spread his knees slightly and let his head drop down. "Stop that, woman!" He gasped again. "I won't be able to control myself..." He shuddered, moaning loudly.

"But I can control _you_!" Bulma answered, gently squeezing his tail between her thumb and fingers, watching his fingers clutch convulsively at the rumpled towel in response. There was something very inviting about Turles' posture... Bulma reached around and picked up the oil cruet with her free hand, and upended it, pouring oil all over her hand and Turles' delectably tight ass.

"Woman, what are you doing??" Turles shuddered all over as Bulma squeezed his tail again. "I... warned you... if I lose control... You wouldn't... survive." He gasped in short breaths between moans.

"You won't lose control, because if you do, one hard squeeze will just completely ruin your 'enthusiasm'," Bulma said cheerily, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She slipped one oiled finger into Turles' anus.

He gasped sharply, and threw his head back, eyes wide with surprise; his sphincter clamped tight on her probing finger, and only the slick oil allowed her finger to be forced out before it was crushed.

"Naughty, naughty," said Bulma as she squeezed his tail a little more forcefully. Turles groaned and spread his knees again. "Now relax and stop fighting me," Bulma said merrily as she massaged his tail gently. 

"Woman... please," he moaned. The words were music to Bulma's ears.

"I thought you wanted enthusiasm," she whispered as she leaned forward and slipped an oil-soaked finger into his anus again. This time, he squeezed gently, and then relaxed; Bulma inserted a second finger and reached around, massaging him from inside. He started to clamp down again, and Bulma squeezed his tail just hard enough to weaken him--then slipped a third finger in as he relaxed, moaning with pleasure. His knees buckled and he groaned as her probing fingers found a target; Bulma could feel the waves of pleasure crushing her fingers, and quickly withdrew before pushing him over the edge.

A last gentle stroke of his tail, and then she massaged her bruised fingers. Turles groaned and sat up, unsteadily. 

"Why did you stop?" he muttered. "Wench, no one has ever done that to me before!" 

He stood abruptly, grabbed her up in his powerful arms and strode to the bed. Turles flung her down, and threw himself atop her, pinning her with his weight. She could feel his very hard manhood pressing against her thigh.

She looked at him in sudden apprehension. Was Turles angry? A fierce smile greeted her.

"You will pay for that! I wish I had met you before..." A shadow of bitterness flashed across his face, and was gone almost before she saw it. "You act so Saiyan..."

He wriggled back and bowed his head; Bulma felt his hot, wet tongue circling her right nipple, licking it hard again. His lips caressed it, sucking gently at her, teasing her. She gasped as the ache in her groin returned full force. Turles pulled back from her nipple and grinned, then licked, sucked and nipped the other one. Bulma relaxed, moaning with pleasure as her nipples and groin tingled.

"AHHH!" Bulma cried aloud with shock and sudden pleasure as Turles slipped an unexpected finger into her opening. He stroked his finger back and forth, up and down, smirking at the wet, sloppy sound of it. Bulma mewled and thrust her hips upward, trying to force the tantalizing finger deeper in--only to whimper as it suddenly withdrew.

"Yesss... you are enthusiastic." The muscular Saiyan raised himself on his arms and grinned down at her. "Sauced and spiced, and almost ready for the feast. Just a little more spice in the sauce..."

Bulma gasped as his hot wet tongue met the taut skin of her belly, and trailed down her stomach, all the way down to the blue hair of her mound. She held her breath; what would Turles do now?

Bulma shrieked as his hot tongue burrowed between her nether lips to lap at the bud hidden there; waves of heat surged through her entire body. She writhed and screamed as Turles devoured her, his skilled tongue and lips sending waves of heat and pleasure shooting through her body. Her empty womanhood throbbed, and she whimpered, desperately wanting it filled, wanting Turles inside her, wanting him to ravage her NOW!

"Please..." she begged, all plans and pride forgotten in her ravening desire.

Turles rose up, his face dripping with her juices and grinned wickedly. "No."

Bulma suddenly felt the hard head of his manhood pressing against her slick, hot, hungry opening, rubbing against it, teasing her--and then withdrawing. She whimpered. "Please, take me, I want you, fuck me, use me, I WANT YOU IN ME--"

"You beg so well," Turles said, smirking. "I accept your surrender."

Bulma cried out as Turles plunged into her, his hard length thrusting easily into the hot wetness of her passage. Bulma gasped; he was so hot and big and tight, filling her up; her legs wrapped around his body--Turles flicked his tail out of the way just in time--as she forced her hips up to meet his thrust.

He withdrew, and plunged in again, and again, pumping slowly, speeding up as Bulma's moans of pleasure grew shorter and louder. They merged into one continuous shriek as her orgasm convulsed her, the pleasure crashing through her whole body in waves starting at her impaled, violated, filled womanhood and shuddering up and down her spine. At last she collapsed back, eyes closed, gasping in long, slow moans of sated pleasure.

Turles' hard shaft still filled her, still stroked her; his fingers ran up and down her side, stroking her skin, so sensitive in the afterglow of orgasm. Every hair, every skin cell seemed to have its own nerves, nerves that thrilled and tingled to the warm fingers dancing across her body. Her moans grew longer and louder--

Turles pulled himself out of her completely; she opened her eyes, puzzled. He smirked again, put a hand on each side of her hips and flipped her neatly over. Bulma pressed her face against Turles' soft bed, feeling the cool air against her sweaty back; she felt his powerful hands lift her hips up...

She gasped as he plunged into her again, this time from behind; Bulma moaned again and again as Turles slammed into her, his hands holding her hips and sides. She could feel his fingers working convulsively against her sides; his breath came in short, harsh gasps.

She felt another orgasm building as Turles stroked her hard, groaning with his own pleasure. Suddenly he slammed himself all the way into her and held her tight, his tail curling around her body to tickle her swollen ember--and her second orgasm exploded in waves of pleasure. Turles gave a hoarse cry as the spasms gripped his cock; he thrust back and forth in quick, short strokes as he came, filling her with his hot seed. He collapsed across her, still shuddering and moaning with pleasure, his spent member still gripped in her sated, filled womanhood.

# # #

She fell asleep curled up beside Turles, his arms around her, and his warm furry tail wrapped around her right leg. It seemed like she slept for hours. When she woke, Bulma was alone on the big soft bed. She sat up and looked around. "Turles?"

The door slid open, and she grabbed the nearest sheet to cover herself. Turles, dressed in full armor, stepped in. He jerked his head in the direction of the bridge. "Come."

"In my bare naked skin? ARE YOU NUTS??" 

Turles looked exasperated. "You're alone," he said, in that soft high voice so like Goku's. "My crew is dead."

Bulma jumped out of the big bed and looked for her clothes--then jumped again as Turles tossed them at her. "You don't have much time to waste--the orbit is decaying. There was some damage when the Tree exploded."

"Huh? Okay, you've lost me. What's going on?" 

At the door, Turles put an arm out to bar her passage. "Make up a pass phrase, and say it after me." Turles punched buttons on the door's control panel, and said something to the ship's computer.

"Uh, 'Shen Long!'" Bulma quickly improvised. "What is going on?"

"Don't forget that, it's now the voice command override for the ship's computer. I've set it to obey you, now." He strode through the open door, and a half-dressed Bulma followed him, trying to pull on her blouse over arms that suddenly seemed to have three extra elbows.

"There's the ship's controls," he pointed, "the computer will fill you in on the details. You need to put it down somewhere safe." There was a grim set to Turles' jaw.

"For the last time, WHAT IS GOING ON?" Bulma screamed. "And what happened to your crew?"

"Your friends killed them in battle." Turles was definitely grimmer now.

"And Son Goku?" Bulma whispered, dreading the obvious answer.

Turles gave a short bitter laugh. "Kakarrot killed me and destroyed the Tree. I go to Hell, Bulma-girl... I chose to linger for one last delight..." He pulled her to him suddenly, and kissed her passionately, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth.

"This ship is yours," Turles said. "Remember me with pleasure, Bulma-girl. I will remember you...." He faded as he spoke, turning pale, then transparent, then gone.

Bulma was alone.

# # #

Two days later, when Bulma and Krillin, Goku and Gohan and the rest of their friends gathered for the long-interrupted camp-out, and conversation turned to the events of the last few days, all Bulma could bring herself to say was, "It was a good thing Goku hit his head when he was young, or he might have gone with Turles..."

She listened silently, smiling as Goku joked about the scar on his head, pretending to smile as the others talked about the terrible fight against the Turles' men, and how Goku destroyed the Tree of Might and killed Turles, and all the rest.

I'm the only one who has regrets, she thought. Why did he have to be so evil? He tried to kill Goku, and Gohan and destroy the world; if only it hadn't been that way. There was something about him--hints of something more than cruelty and evil. If only we had met another way, another time....

Bulma looked across the fire at Yamucha, and hastily wiped a tear away before anyone noticed.

THE END


End file.
